


colour of the crystal

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [20]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Age Difference, Emotional Manipulation, Fae & Fairies, Flashbacks, Gang Rape, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sexual Violence, Torture, Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Vampires, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: A flashback to Freddie's relationship with vampire Martin Adjaye, back when the fairy was all of 17 and just getting out of prostitution, thinking he'd found himself (for all intents and purposes) a sugar daddy of sorts. Never thinking that Martin had, all along, been planning to use his body to incubate the gem that would prolong the vampire's lucid existence.Martin Adjaye = Idris Elba FC
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Martin Adjaye
Series: the prophet and the king [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673
Kudos: 6





	colour of the crystal

**Author's Note:**

> > Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)  
> 

_ “In this treacherous world  
Nothing is the truth nor a lie.  
Everything depends on the color  
Of the crystal through which one sees it”  
― Pedro Calderón de la Barca _

  
The sound of the tiny, fragile bones of the boy’s pinkie finger (and such a sweet, diminutive term, too; Martin knew how much Freddie loved diminutives) being snapped went straight to his cock. It was an amuse bouche for what was to happen next, over the course of the next few days, when the boy’s mind would be methodically stripped down to barren wasteland. And Martin intended to salt that land so it took years, _decades_ , for the fruit to grow and ripen again. He was unripe now, just a child, and as Martin Adjaye stepped forward to cup Freddie’s anguished, betrayed face, he offered the only comfort available:

“You’ve pleased me, little one, and I’ve enjoyed watching you turn yourself inside out on display for my benefit. But now I’m finished with you, eh?”

The caressing hand turned heavy, patting against Freddie’s cheek with a little too much force, just short of slaps and enough to make the fairy boy flinch. “Let’s face it, you were halfway used up already when I picked your arse up off the street. How long did you think you’d make it? Once your pretty mouth had too many teeth knocked out, and your eyes got that dead fish-belly look that so many of your little streetwalker friends have?”

Freddie just goggled at Martin with tears in his eyes, his crushed finger aching, still trying to work out what was going on. How this could be happening. Because he’d known that Martin would be angry - he’d _expected_ him to be angry - but he’d thought… he’d thought that it wouldn’t matter. Not really. Because Martin loved him. And…

And that was supposed to make the difference.

Martin straightened, shaking his head. “Have you got any idea,” he said sadly, “what a turn-off that look is? But I caught you before you reached that stage, didn't I, I caught you still fresh and wriggling, Freddie. And I’ve had you as many times as I’ve wanted. And you wanted it too, every single time, didn't you, sweetheart. And now–” Martin took a step back, his eyes going cold, dark, a stone rolling to shut a tomb. “I’m going to see you gutted and chopped up to feed the fishes. The best part is …

”…there's nobody who will miss you.“

* * *

  
"What are you in the mood for today?”

It wasn’t usual for Martin to stay in Freddie’s bed, on the times he _did_ have Freddie in the boy’s own bed instead of in his own huge, elegant master suite. But the vampire had indulged himself the night before, glutting on the irresistible nectar for vampires that was fairy blood, until he'd gone into the sated inertia that passed for sleep with Freddie pinned beneath him. Wrapped in his strong arms, the boy’s little blue dragonfly wings out and everything; Freddie was a charm on a bracelet, and everyone who saw him knew it. Certainly Freddie knew it, and Martin – finding it highly amusing to do so – encouraged the young fairy’s sense of vanity and pettiness whenever he could. It kept Freddie preening and unsuspecting, pleased to have gained the admiration of a man as impressive as Martin Adjaye.

Plus a night of affection here and there, to a boy who’d hardly known any, worked wonders. Without posing any hardship to Martin himself.

Rolling onto his back and tugging Freddie against him, Martin put his palm on the boy’s head and ruffled his soft brown hair back and forth. “We could go to the cinema, if you feel like it,” he suggested. “Or out to eat somewhere. Shopping afterwards. Or…” The vampire smiled, fangs still dropped and eyes still gleaming, “…we can go another round. That is, if you think your poor sweet little arse can take it.”

It hadn’t taken much for Freddie to adjust his internal clock to run backwards - he’d been living mostly by night for ages anyway, in Hamburg, and Amsterdam, and Antwerp - so adjusting things just a little bit further for Martin, who eschewed daylight charms in favour of making the world conform to _his_ schedule, had been remarkably easy. 

And dead sexy, really.

Because Freddie _liked_ to see Martin throw his weight around. Liked the way the vampire snapped his fingers and his will was done.

It made being Martin’s boy that much more… exciting.

Ollie, of course, wasn’t quite so enthusiastic. He and Martin didn’t really get on for whatever reason - Ollie maintained that he didn’t trust him, but he couldn’t specifically say why, so Freddie just chalked it up to jealousy at having to share his fairy’s attention for the first time in their lives, and tried not to worry about it - and it _did_ make things a bit awkward sometimes, because Ollie wouldn’t stay at Martin’s more than once or twice a week, preferring to make Freddie run back and forth to their bedsit in Ferencváros from Martin’s place in District V, but they were making it work. 

And when Martin opted to sleep away the daylight hours in Freddie’s bed, like he had today, well… 

Freddie knew that Ollie would be glad he’d opted out on joining him last night. 

He himself, though… he couldn’t get _enough_.

The fairy had already been awake for the better part of an hour, watching as the clock ticked the minutes away, and knowing that night was falling again outside - glorying in the presence of Martin at his back, at the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms and held firm under his weight, his wings brushing deliciously against the vampire’s broad chest, the blood he’d lost the night before already replenished in his veins - when Martin stirred. And when he did, Freddie couldn’t help biting his lip against a smile, already eager for his attention.

The deep rumble of the older man’s voice in his ear, lips brushing lightly against his skin, was enough to make Freddie’s cock swell between his legs; and when Martin rolled back, tugging the teenager with him to settle Freddie down on his chest as he made suggestions for how to spend their evening, the fairy pretended to pout, his eyes sparkling at the sight of Martin’s fangs. “Does it _have_ to be one or the other?” he asked.

“Because I definitely want to go another round…” the boy pushed the blankets down to expose the vampire’s cock and kissed his way down to it; nuzzling and licking, kissing it teasingly, before lifting his head again. Grinning, “…and _then_ I want to go to dinner and do some shopping.”

“Never one to limit yourself, are you?” But Martin didn’t stop Freddie, watching the boy’s tousled head move slowly down his chiseled torso to the prize. Martin knew how well-endowed he was. He’d known it in life, he knew it in his unlife, and Freddie had known it the first time that the vampire forced his cock all the way into that pert little arse.

“Why should I?” Freddie clapped back cheekily, wearing a naughty smile and looking up with lust-blown pupils as he lapped at Martin’s cock like a kitten, toying with the thick ridge on the underside of the broad meaty head with his tongue. “You like me spoilt,” he teased, “Because then you get to-” the fairy dusted his voice down to mimic Martin’s own deeper register, “…‘take me in hand.’”

_God_ , Freddie loved to be taken in hand…

Martin raised his hips slightly as Freddie’s still-swollen lips brushed against the sensitive skin, fucking against the seam of the boy's mouth for a few strokes – but no more than that, or his lovely slut would open his mouth for it proper and that wasn’t what Martin wanted at the moment.

Freddie might not realize it, but everything that transpired was always, _always_ what _Martin_ wanted.

It would be a valuable lesson to the fairy boy one day, Martin mused to himself as he reached for and easily turned Freddie back onto his belly, the whore’s ripe, rounded arse just as delectable as it had been the day before. Martin moved on top of Freddie, spreading his legs open wide, almost too wide for comfort, and nipping at one plush cheek as he held them apart with his strong hands. “I want to see you clutching that pillow, little one,” he said in between licking hard at Freddie’s hole, pushing it open again, forcing the slick membrane to go back to its soft fucked-out sag, fairy dust healing be damned. “Sounds – no words – but sounds, I want to hear. And you can bite the pillow too, if you want. If you need.”

With that, Martin shoved the plug he'd had waiting into Freddie’s arse – a thick, wicked one with all sorts of bumps and nubs – and sank his fangs into the palmful of muscle riding the boy’s hipbone. One hand effortlessly held Freddie pinned where he was, shifting to grab those irritating wings and hold them stationary as Martin drank. Five seconds, ten, his swallowing lavish and loud, and then he stopped. Left the puncture wounds, rearing up, and tore out the plug, spitting a mouthful of searing-hot blood on Freddie’s cunt before lunging up and forward, driving himself in with a snarl of pleasure.

“I want you to buy jewels when I take you shopping tonight,” Martin demanded, clapping his other palm down over those bitemarks and riding smoothly into Freddie’s body. “I want you adorned for me. And we’ll go to Onyx; I’m well sick of Costes, especially after last time when that ... indiscreet friend of yours was there.”

The tone of hurt admonishment resounding in Martin’s voice was the only elaboration he made about the incident. It was all that was needed. But hells below, the boy felt good impaled on his cock, the delicate structure of his wings hot and thrumming in Martin’s hand, blood trying to vibrate out of the puncture wounds against his palm. From every angle, Freddie was _his_.

“I want to hear you, love. Let me hear you make those pretty sounds you do.”

Martin didn’t waste any time.

Putting Freddie on his belly in burst of strength and speed that stole the boy’s breath, and pulling him up onto his knees, Martin plundered the fairy’s still tender hole with his mouth - Freddie’s dust seemed to want to please Martin too, always leaving a little evidence behind that the vampire had been there - and the teenager did as he’d been told, grabbing fistfuls of the pillow as he moaned into it, pushing back against Martin’s tongue eagerly.

Groaning when he was told he could bite the pillow too, if he wanted; his cock already oozing precum in the hope that he’d need to.

The plug, when it came, forced a loud hissing whine of painful pleasure past Freddie’s lips; each nub and bump sending its own sort of shiver through him and making him squirm, his arse stretched achingly wide - though this was _nothing_ compared to how it would feel when Martin’s prick had replaced it, and Freddie knew it. 

Which sounded like the worst sort of cockslut exaggeration - but it was nothing but the absolute the truth. 

When he’d been working - _officially_ working - Freddie’d thought he’d taken every sort of cock there was at least once; nothing had impressed him or frightened him anymore. But Martin… Martin was the sort of man that porn auteurs fantasised about. His cock was as beautiful and intimidating as the rest of him - and he’d all but battered Freddie with it the first night he’d taken him.

And Freddie had never cum so hard - or so often - in his life.

Sometimes just catching sight of the swell of it down Martin’s trouser leg was enough to drop the fairy to his knees for a taste. 

The biting though… he’d balked instinctively when Martin had asked for it; refused because he didn’t like to be hurt, and he’d _already_ been hurt, badly, more times than he cared to acknowledge or remember. But Martin hadn’t pushed, just explained why he wanted it and how it could be - and soon, Freddie had found that he’d wanted it too. That he’d wanted to try. 

…and the first time Martin had bitten him, his teeth and his cock buried inside Freddie all at once, the fairy had never looked back again.

Still squirming on the plug, Freddie’s wings did their best to snap to their full spread when Martin’s fangs sank into his hip, but the vampire held them firm, and the boy moaned sluttily as his lover drank, knuckles white as he writhed, clutching the pillow - and he whined again when the plug was pulled free, gasping at the hot splash against his pussy, and crying out with a wanton sob when he was suddenly slammed full of cock.

Biting the pillow to keep from disobeying the rules. _Sounds, not words. Sounds, not words_ …

He was panting into the Egyptian cotton, grunting and shaking with pleasure as Martin fucked him; the promise of jewels and extravagance only taking him higher - though he whimpered in contrition at the mention of their last trip to Costes, and the man (one of Freddie’s first marks in Budapest) who’d made the mistake of both assuming familiarity with Freddie, and of approaching Martin as an equal, believing that their mutual affection for something pretty, young, and tight on their arms and pricks gave them commonality.

Freddie had nearly cum in his trousers when Martin had corrected that error. Almost offered his arse right there in the bloody dining room.

Practically undone already by the wet squelching sound of his cunt being pounded open, and by the way that big thick cock felt moving inside of him - shuddering as Martin struck the right place again and again before pushing deeper and harder like he wanted to hollow Freddie out with his prick - the fairy rocked back into each thrust as best he could, squeezing his muscles, his face pressed into the linens, keening and gasping for breath. 

That small whine of apology shot through Martin’s groin like a fiery arrow. Knowing that he could force Freddie to feel remorse for things that were, in truth, entirely beyond the fairy boy’s control made the vampire’s lust only grow in measure. The possibilities yawned before him of what else he could manipulate Freddie into feeling responsible for, guilty for, eager to make amends and thrilling at what the vampire might deign appropriate punishment.

Oh, the _things_ he was going to do with this beautiful, greedy, arrogant child.

The sight of his thick-veined cock plunging into Freddie’s arse over and over was enough to make Martin want to taste that shimmering silver fae blood again (the boy was as good as having his own constantly-running champagne fountain in that sense), but the bite wounds had already healed over and besides, he didn’t want to stop fucking Freddie. Not when his cunt was so silky and heated, perfectly snug in its desperate clench every time Martin drilled into him. Letting go of Freddie’s wings, Martin took both of the boy’s hips in his grip and began hammering in, his vampire speed and strength called into use. “You’ve never been fucked like this before,” he said to Freddie in the same conversational voice that he’d been using to talk about their evening; not needing to breathe allowed Martin the luxury of full, unfettered speech even as he slammed Freddie into the sheets, pounding him so hard that the noise of it reverberated through the room. “You’ve dropped to your knees for all sorts, been on your back and your belly or bent over for whatever prick came with the money to use you – but you’ve never had it as good as this. Hmmm?”

He’d taken careful note very early into their dealings of the boy’s aversion to pain, but Martin had found quite soon that this often didn’t apply to the actual art of intercourse. When it came to being fucked, Freddie was a cockslut to the bone. Even as a lip of pink membrane followed Martin’s cock out of the boy’s pussy on each out-thrust, Freddie still moaned as though he was dying of pleasure and offered himself up further for the plunder.

As a seasoned whore, Freddie of course would know how to make any fuck seem like the rawing of a lifetime. But Martin had no doubt that this, the mewling and shivering as Freddie was pinned and impaled without reprieve, was entirely genuine. There was no way anybody was experienced enough to not viscerally respond to being single-mindedly railed by a creature as powerful as a nearly 500-year old vampire.

Martin lowered his weight along Freddie’s back, pushing his wings to one side – not the most comfortable position for them, but then again he didn’t give a single bloody shit about the boy’s comfort at the moment – and bracketed Freddie's pillow with his forearms as he piledrived his young lover. “You may speak, now,” Martin said, his voice filling the space between them, surrounding Freddie entirely; it would be like he was wearing headphones, the timber of Martin's voice resounding in his head. Vampire abilities could be used for an infinite number of ways when it came to carnal matters, and when the slut in your bed was enamoured by having an older, wealthy, and powerful vampire for a lover, those abilities proved extraordinarily useful when it came to … priming the pump, so to speak.

“I’m not even close to cumming,” Martin admonished Freddie, his voice subterranean low and semi-accusing. “Work harder or I’ll fuck you until I break the bloody bed.” He pressed his cheek against the side of Freddie’s head. “Use your words now, Freddie. Show me some gratitude. Let me hear how much you want this.”

Freddie’s keening became a deep low guttural groan of agonised bliss as Martin took his hips and began to drive into him like a demolition hammer; the force of his pistoning groin and brutal cock moving the bed itself and banging the heavy wood off the wall as though they were in a cheap motel. His fingers were like steel as they dug into Freddie’s hipbones, and Freddie knew that Martin could fuck him to death if he wanted to.

Martin could do _anything_ with him, if he wanted to.

But he _didn’t_. Because Freddie was _his_. Martin had chosen him when he could’ve had anyone; he loved him - because Freddie was special.

He made Freddie feel like no-one else ever had. Like no-one else had ever wanted to… 

And that made his razor’s edge that much more incredible to walk.

The fairy winced when his wings were pushed over; the left one aching where there was pressure on the joint, the right one caught uncomfortably beneath the left - but he just gritted his teeth and focused on Martin’s proximity. On the touch of Martin’s skin, the scent of his cologne - still present and wonderful even this many hours and exertions after it had been applied. On the sound of the vampire’s voice licking into his ears, and the urgent demanding thrusts of his cock. All of which set Freddie’s own eager prick throbbing harder, precum messing the sheets.

“God, Martin, _please_ …” he breathed, “-nobody’s ever fucked me like you do… s’never ever been this good…” Freddie trailed off into a whining moan as Martin pounded him harder, sending the boy’s knees out from under him and making him scramble to get back into position, pushing his arse back up again, “…oh god… fuck… _fuck me_ …”

And when Martin chastised him for not working hard enough to please him, Freddie turned his face to capture his older lover’s lips, keening softly at the taste of him, at the coppery tang of his own blood still lingering there. Squeezing his muscles as hard as he could on each inward stroke of the vampire’s prick as it forced its way deep into his cunt, the teenager pushed back to take each thrust deeper. “I can do better,” he begged mindlessly, breathlessly, “…let me ride you and I can do better…”

“I can make you cum so hard, Martin… please…”

It was, in fact, something that Martin had often thought about if he wanted to get off and the boy wasn’t around to milk his cock; being balls-deep inside the lad, feeling the life drain from Freddie’s rosy young flesh either through severe injury - meted out by Martin's fists - or the application of Martin’s fangs. Blood either way, scenting the air along with Freddie’s cries of anguish growing fainter and fainter until he finally lay quiet and still, his body unable to do anything but accept Martin’s similarly dead cum.

He was careful not to let on to Freddie just how aroused such fantasies made him. Though the boy shuddered in pleasure every time Martin demonstrated the power he held, the vampire knew that the fairy teenager’s enjoyment of pain existed only in the context of fucking, and even then, judiciously so. Combined with the right application of mindfuckery, as well.

It was almost endearing how fussy the little one could be. But then, why _shouldn’t_ he be? He was, so far as he comprehended, loved and adored by the most impressive man he’d ever met, a man who he had wrapped around his pinkie finger. Martin had noticed that fleck of self-assurance when Freddie wanted to be coquettish. He didn’t correct it now. But it would be corrected strongly and never to be forgotten, before the end.

The boy started begging once allowed to speak, his body open and splayed beneath Martin’s body, voice shaking from the intense power of the vampire’s thrusts. A human wouldn’t have been able to take it. Freddie, though, was clenching down on Martin’s club of a cock, apologizing for not having done better, pleading to be allowed to service his master properly. To use his young body to that end, as it wasn't much good for anything else.

Oh yes, that particular conviction still lingered in the little fairy's brain. That he'd been created to be fucked, that he wasn't worth anything other than the price negotiated for the use of his mouth or hands or cunt. And Martin, despite maintaining his benevolent persona, did nothing to assuage those fears, not directly; it was Freddie who filled in the blanks himself, who had the temerity to think that Martin Adjaye's attention meant that he was special, somehow.

A cow might think it was special if it were wagyu, Martin supposed.

The vampire turned onto his back, hauling Freddie on top of him and placing the whore halfway mounted upon the shaft of his prick, feeling Freddie’s thighs tremble at the repeated entry, watching his youthful muscles stretch with exertion. He drank in the sight of those bright eyes made dizzy with lust and that rosebud mouth red as berries, and then said, “Now you’ll have your chance to prove yourself, Freddie. I’ll give you the chance you asked for, because you begged so sweetly.” Martin smiled slowly, fangs on display as he rotated his hips and felt Freddie instinctively bear down again on his cock.

“Now, it’s your choice …” Martin made sure that Freddie was well situated to remain in the position he was in, and let go of his strong grip on the boy’s waist, “…lower yourself slowly onto my prick, or take my cock all at once.” Martin tucked one arm behind his head, toying with Freddie’s nipple with the other hand. “Either way, I know it’ll be a beautiful sight.”

Martin’s strength and speed being what they were, Freddie was nothing more than a toy in his hands; and when the vampire rolled onto his back, it cost him no effort at all to swiftly put the fairy back where he wanted him, impaling him once more on his cock - making Freddie moan as the bulbous head breached him again - and holding him there, mid-way down. Powerful hands - big and broad with long elegant fingers that could grind bone into powder if they cared to - clamped round his waist, forcing Freddie to stay up high on his knees; Martin’s rock-hard prick stretching him wide, but still only partially inside him.

The boy was breathing hard; soft little puffs of breath through his wet parted lips, chest rising and falling rapidly as his muscles protested the tension he was holding in them, and he could feel beads of sweat rolling down his spine between the joints of his wings - spread wide now, and quivering - and still more rivulets of the same snaking down the planes of his stomach as he gazed hotly into Martin’s eyes and down at the incredible expanse of his body. 

The roll of the older man’s hips though made him shudder even as he clenched down on the battering ram that was fucking him, unable to hold back another needy whine - though he did his best to pay attention to what Martin was telling him. And when the vampire’s hands were gone, leaving Freddie to fight gravity all on his own, the fairy bit his lip but kept his control, watching as Martin made himself comfortable, the big man settling in to watch the show.

Both nipples tight aching little buds now, Martin’s fingers made Freddie gasp, the teenager’s neglected cock twitching, precum dripping down onto Martin’s belly and gleaming in the ambient artificial light of the room - and Freddie took a deep shaky breath, then shifted his knees just a little further apart, sinking down slowly, inch by agonising inch. 

His eyes fluttering closed, panting harder now, Freddie forced himself full of cock, able to feel it deep in his guts, until he was seated fully - and he opened his eyes again in search of approval before starting a steady roll of his hips, slutty needy little moans falling from his mouth.

Loving it. Hungry to show what he could do. To make Martin glad to have him.

Leaning forward slightly, the fairy boy splayed his hands against his lover’s ribs, then began to rise up higher on his knees again. Squeezing tight as he moved and bouncing hard, leaving only the head of Martin’s prick still inside with each lift, and then coming all the way down again.

As always, the whore outdid himself.

Martin couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of it, Freddie fucking himself down onto the weapon that was the vampire's cock and taking all of it with each urgent press. The boy was so tight inside, and Martin’s heightened vampire senses made a feast of that silken clutch, of the warm scent of fresh young sweat, of the drip of each pearl of precum. Freddie always provided a banquet for the taking, and Martin never failed to feel that desire to take all that he could of the boy.

After all, Freddie was giving it freely and of his own will, to coin a phrase.

“That’s it,” Martin groaned, his thumbs brushing Freddie’s tightened nipples once more before moving to his arse and spreading him wide open, making the scene even more debauched than it already was. “You never disappoint me, do you, Freddie? Not where it matters. Not where you’re best.” His hands gripped the firm flesh he was holding, starting to help Freddie ride more smoothly, more quickly. It aroused the boy’s flirtation with danger to know that Martin could tear him apart had he wanted to with those same hands … but more importantly, it made the boy dazed with love to think, as he did, that Martin cared so deeply for him that there would never be that sort of violence.

The thought made him smile, openly enough that his fangs showed and Martin growled at the predatory sense of it, telling Freddie, “You take me better than anyone else I’ve fucked, do you know that? Hmmmm, little one?” He thrust upwards, locking his arms low around Freddie’s hips to churn his cock deep into the boy’s guts. “So much whining from those others, how they couldn’t handle it, how scared they were, how they wanted me to slow down and be gentler and do you know what that is, Freddie? That sort of request, when they ask me to do that?” Martin lifted up off the mattress enough so that the tight hardness of his belly rubbed against Freddie’s stiff prick, crushing it between them.

“That would be me _lessening_ myself for them,” Martin said, the rumble of his voice intense with the arrogant pride that he wore like it was couture. “With you, I don’t need to do that. Isn’t that right, Freddie? Tell me. Tell me that you’d do anything I wanted you to.”

Martin leaned up further, taking one of those tender nipples into his mouth, sliding the side of a fang against it before sucking down hard and lashing it with his tongue. His hands shifted, one pressed into the small of Freddie’s back while the other slid up just under his wing joints to hold him still for Martin’s questing, hungry mouth. He only paused to say one thing:

“–and when you tell me that, _then_ you can cum.”

Freddie gasped as Martin’s thumbs moved across his nipples, hard and so so sensitive; but when he was pulled open wider, his already gaping pussy stretched just a little bit more, the fairy’s head dropped down heavily and he moaned like he might come apart at the seams. 

But he was still moving. Still riding Martin’s cock like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

And he lifted his head again to meet his lover’s eyes when the vampire began to praise him, drinking it it like Martin drank his blood. Smiling as he panted, and then groaning again when Martin’s grip on his arse tightened and he ceased to be in control of the pace of the fuck anymore.

Ceased to be _allowed_ control.

It was both harder and easier on him now - easier on the muscles in his arms and legs, harder on his ass as Martin fucked him mercilessly - but it was better. Jagged strikes of pleasure were jolting through him, his hole raw and sore and hot - and when Martin smiled at him, telling him how much better he was than everyone else, fucking up into him with the kind of force that stole Freddie’s breath, sending his wings snapping out wide and making him cry out loud, the fairy felt invincible. Euphoric. 

_Golden_.

His throbbing cock caught between the unyielding rock-hard planes of Martin’s stomach and the relative softness of his own belly, leaking precum into the deep cuts of Martin’s muscles, the teenager rocked his hips as best he could in search of more stimulation. Wanting to cum all over the older man and then lick him clean again; to feel Martin’s own cool vampiric spunk dripping from his cunt as he did.

Wanting to be bled, and bred, and told a thousand times that he was the only one who’d ever been any good…

Martin’s mouth closed around Freddie’s nipple, laving it and teasing it, and Freddie swore roughly, hissing when the edge of the vampire’s fang broke the skin - that hissing becoming a keening whine as Martin began to suck, crushing the fairy boy closer and holding him still.

“I’d do anything…” Freddie groaned raggedly, his arms trembling as he held himself up, “…anything you want me to…”

“Careful what you promise, little one.”

Martin lifted his head from Freddie’s nipple, a streak of blood on his teeth as he smiled – not altogether benevolently. “I may have cause to hold you to your word someday. That’s what happens when you’re in the thrill of youth and decide to play Faust.” The vampire rolled them over again, drinking in Freddie’s groan as the strain was taken from his shoulders and thighs but driven into his cunt with equivalent force. He linked fingers with the boy, pinning his hands on either side of Freddie’s head and slowing his pace, sending measured hammering thrusts deep enough to make the whole bed shake.

With his fragile wings spread out across the bed, quivering the same way that Freddie’s swollen mouth and pinkened rabbit nose and thick fringe of eyelashes were, the fairy looked utterly fucked-out and brought to the precipice of what he could physically stand. But Martin knew that wasn’t true. The fairy dust would be doing its part to keep up with whatever (as to date) minor injuries Martin inflicted, especially since Freddie still saw this all as some wonderful dream. His lover, the sophisticated wealthy Martin Adjaye, would certainly never conceive of plucking a vulnerable boy from the streets and groom him into being an obedient little kept whore, one who wouldn’t ask questions that would have kept him out of harm’s way when the time came.

Out of _Martin’_ s way.

The thought of what he was going to do to Freddie curled in his gut like an eager fist, and Martin slammed his entire body against the boy, demanding, “Cum for me now!” as he himself shot his considerable load deep into Freddie’s body, so deep it felt like he was filling the whore’s belly. Breeding him, indeed. “Tell me how much you love being used like this, Freddie, my little one, I need to hear it.” Martin allowed a single note of pleading into his voice, gone as soon as it showed.

But _Freddie_ would have noticed, clever observant desperate-to-please Freddie.

Freddie answered Martin’s wicked smile (naively, blindly, the teenager saw no genuine malice there, only the same sharp-edged glittering power than had excited him straight from the start) with one of his own, in spite of what his body was being put through. “Never promised,” he panted, his eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion and pain and concentrated pleasure, but gleaming all the same. And he let out a huff of breath when he was thrown down onto his back that began life as a laugh of delight before it became a filthy sounding groan, as Martin drove his cock into Freddie’s pussy deeper and harder than ever.

But when the vampire laced their fingers together, holding Freddie down and slowing the forceful roll of his hips - each plunge of that thick beautiful monstrous prick visible as it bulged Freddie’s stomach, the fairy’s thighs shaking just slightly more than the rest of him - Freddie forced his legs up to hook his ankles as best he could around Martin’s waist, offering himself up into each bed-jarring thrust, and letting out soft little moaning whimpers while his own cock strained, sticky and wanting, between them, dark pink and tortuously hard.

He’d never had it like this, that was absolutely true. He’d never wanted to beg for mercy and beg for more in exactly the same breath - but Martin wasn’t like anyone else. He was just _so much_. And somehow, Freddie had him. _Freddie_ was what he wanted. 

The vampire treated him as though he were something to be proud of - and Freddie was still just a little bit in awe of that. Even as he soaked it in. 

Even as he reveled in it.

Martin’s voice was still deep and smooth as he commanded Freddie to cum for him - vampires, he’d explained to the boy early on, felt no exertion when fucking, only pleasure or disappointment - booming, as he emptied his balls in long slow swelling pulses, each lingering drive of his cock sounding wetter and more obscene to Freddie’s ears. And the fairy was unable to stop himself from picturing it; the way it would be oozing out of him. Thick creamy smears of spunk decorating Martin’s cock…

But it wasn’t the command that made him shoot his own slightly sparkling load - high and hard, with all the eagerness of his scant 17 years - to spatter against his clavicle. It was the single there-and-gone split second of beseeching vulnerability that he heard in Martin’s next demand that sent him careening into breathless oblivion.

“I love it,” he gasped, whining softly as Martin continued to fuck him through the aftershocks, “…everything… you know I do…”

Freddie squeezed the vampire’s fingers weakly, his hands trembling, still holding the big man in the cradle of his thighs. “Never had _anything_ like you…”

Martin smiled down at Freddie, a benevolent master now that his little slave had properly fulfilled his duty. “You never _will_ have anything like me.” The timbre of his voice and the still rock-hard cock buried inside the boy’s shaking body lent emphasis to the declaration, his intense gaze holding Freddie pinned like a dragonfly to a canvas.

What an entrancing world it was, Martin marveled as he swiped his fingers through Freddie’s spunk, feeding it back to the fairy. That this creature existed, this callow youth who had been shut out of love at every turn in life, but still trusted and hoped in it enough to give himself to Martin so completely. So unsuspecting. So damnably _young_ despite the very adult education he’d received selling himself on the streets of Hamburg, Amsterdam, Antwerp.

The thought of how Freddie would help serve Martin in his own continued consumption of this world and all the willing inferiors in it was almost enough to make him want to fuck the boy all over again.

…and _what_ , indeed, was to stop him?

Cock stiffening at the prospect, Martin sat up with his arms wrapped around Freddie, telling him, “Fold your wings,” before starting to fuck brutally up into the exhausted teenager. Freddie's entire body felt limp, his muscles too tired to even tense to hold himself upright for the plunder, but Martin didn’t care a fig for that; he was the one using energy, using Freddie’s body as a way to slake his lust, using the still-tight grip of his ravaged hole. A worn-out little fuckdoll that could still provide pleasure, if you didn't concern yourself overmuch with its comfort. “You’re exquisite,” the vampire told Freddie as he hauled the fairy boy’s body onto his pistoning thrusts. “I’ve never regretted choosing you.”

That, at least, had the ring of truth to tighten the metaphorical shackle around Freddie’s ankle. Martin had been surprised at the boy’s keen wit, his charm (still with a dewy artlessness, despite the surface studied coquetry that Freddie projected), his as-yet unspoiled shimmering beauty. There could not have been better. And that was what took Martin into orgasm again, with a roar that ended with his teeth at Freddie’s collarbone, where there was still a streak of gleaming fairy dust cum.

“You _never_ _will_ have _anything_ like me.”

In the years that followed, Freddie would hear those words as a promise. A scathing truth. Proclamation and judgment. That he would - and could - never have anyone to love him the way that Martin had pretended to. That no-one of any calibre or quality would ever want him for anything that mattered. That kindness, and care, and affection; protection and support; were not for the likes of him.

None of it had ever been real, or true, or valid - because it couldn’t be. He wasn’t worth it.

But in the moment, the fairy was too overwhelmed, too drunk on the man inside of him, to hear it as anything other than the simple confirmation of Martin’s own ego - that he was one of a kind, beyond anything that Freddie had ever thought possible for himself. And Freddie absolutely agreed.

Sucking his own cum from Martin’s large fingers, the boy moaned softly as he licked each digit clean, then let out another breathy whine when he felt the slowly softening cock still buried in his cunt begin to harden again; the vampire gathering him up and hauling him into his lap, gravity pushing him even deeper as he seated Freddie atop his thighs, instructing him to fold his wings. Which the boy did with a tired rustle, throwing his arms weakly around Martin’s neck and laying his head on his shoulder. Groaning his hips were held, and he was moved at exactly the pace and the depth that his lover wanted, as he fucked him out a second time; each thrust squelching and slick.

And Freddie only clung tighter when Martin told him that he was exquisite, hiding his face in his older lover’s neck to hide how embarrassingly happy it made him to hear that the vampire had no regrets about the two of them. That he, who'd lived nearly five hundred years and surely had sampled some of the world's most incredible creatures, would choose Freddie again. 

Would choose him _still_.

And when Martin came again, sharp teeth biting down and sending an orgasmic shudder through the teenage fairy’s body too, Freddie leaned back to press his lips to the older man’s temple, hands on the back of Martin’s head, inviting him to drink his fill.

* * *

He wasn’t gentle.

“For a boy like you,” Martin tutted, his hand curled into Freddie's hair this time to hold the fairy’s exhausted head up, “to believe in maudlin, sentimental tosh of the worst kind – how very _special_ you are, how much _better_ than all the rest – it’s embarrassing, you know, Freddie?” The vampire man leaned down, face close to Freddie’s so the boy had no choice but to look at him, at his dispassionate expression. “Every time you believed it, I was embarrassed for you.”

Stepping back again, Martin settled into the horseshoe-backed huanghuali armchair set up adjacent to the table where Freddie was laid out, lighting one of his Cohibos and gesturing to one of the two bruisers present. The man, of a size with Martin but thick with the particular bestial look of werewolf muscle, grinned and said, "Oh ay, we get to fuck up the little tart now?" starting to undo his trousers, and Martin drew on his cigar to let the blue-grey smoke wind its way lacy and gut-churning through the air.

Freddie just stared back at Martin, too weak now to hold his head up; in too much pain to move, his magic and his dust consumed with the task of keeping him alive and unable to ease his suffering. He could feel Ollie in the back of his mind, trapped in their flat across town without him, agonised and petrified. Fretting and whining and howling his distress for his fairy; scrabbling determinedly at the door, desperate to get out, to do something - though it wouldn’t make a single iota of difference.

Ollie’s pain - Ollie, who’d been right all along, who’d seen the truth of things and tried to warn his stupid _stupid_ fairy of it - almost hurt worse than Freddie’s own. And the boy tried, as best he could, to reach out to him, to comfort him, though it didn’t appear to be doing any good.

Which was fitting, really; because Freddie had never been good enough for anything. 

As Martin was making undeniably clear.

The tracks of Freddie’s tears were still visible as Martin held his chin up; his eyes wounded and hollow behind their red rims and pathetic puffiness. But he wasn’t crying now. The teenager didn’t have any tears left. Not anymore.

Or so he’d thought. 

But once Martin had retreated back to his chair and lit his cigar, the sound of that belt buckle being opened somewhere over Freddie’s shoulder sent a fresh set of tears rolling silently down the fairy’s cheeks.

The wolf wrangled Freddie half-off the table that the boy was lying on, shivering and terrified, and lowered his head to scent that fear-sweat from Freddie's skin with a growl of arousal. "You'd best be scared, cumwhore," the wolf told him as his companion chuckled, getting out his own cock to start pumping it, getting ready for his turn. "I like it when boys scream for me. I like to see them split wide open while I destroy their pink cunnys."

“Be grateful for this, little one," Martin said, the gentleness in his voice a cruel trick that everybody in the room was now fully privy to. "I’m going to demonstrate to you what it is you’re best fit for. So you never lose sight of it again.”

He blew out more smoke, a low laugh of pleasure in his throat as the wolf thrust into the fairy boy's body with no mercy, starting to rape him as though it was something he was owed. Howling with laughing pleasure, derision, sadistic thrill, one hand wrenching Freddie's arm behind his back as the other shoved his face hard against the table. It didn't take that long, all told, but when the wolf was done with Freddie his compatriot moved in without even a stutter, happy to have the other man's cum and Freddie's blood to slick the way. He was less talky but rougher, chugging his bulbous cock into the boy's hole with a constant growling snarl that rippled his lips, sawing in and out with single-minded cruelty.

"When he's done," the wolf told Freddie, crouching down at the head of the table and forcing the boy to look at him, "I'll take another piece of your arse. You're a fine ride, fuckmeat."

"He knows," Martin said. Then he smiled, a terrifying thing, and told the atronach thug using Freddie, "... you can fuck him in your rock form, if you want. He'll take it. Fairy dust heals all indignities, isn't that right, Freddie?" Martin gave an insincere hum of sympathy when he was met with no response other than Freddie's choked sobs and incoherent pleas, but when the boy's sounds turned to shrieks of agony, he shut his eyes and the hum turned to one of sheer, satiated pleasure.

This was turning out even better than he'd hoped. 

* * *

Fairy blood was Martin’s favourite of the more intoxicating species, and he drank deeply as Freddie offered himself up. And would, again and again if asked, Martin knew. The boy fancied himself so very favoured that he was certain Martin would never go too far; so certain that he sauntered around Martin’s richly-appointed flat like he belonged there; so sure of his being the apple of Martin’s eye that he acted a shameful cocktease in front of the guards.

None of that, however, was in the vampire’s mind as he drank. All he was concerned with was glutting himself on that sweet, sparkling blood, the faint astringency at the back of his throat as each thick swallow went down.

He could turn Freddie instead. It wasn’t too late, he could find another boy to incubate the Bvlgari Blue diamond and instead keep Freddie for his own enjoyment over the centuries to come. Set him up in a flat in … Singapore to start, perhaps, where the fairy could tire himself out shopping. Martin was not often wrong, after all, and his sensibilities in choosing Freddie from out of a staggering array of available fresh young bodies had been impeccable as always. Why _shouldn’t_ he keep the boy as an agreeable, attractive little pet from now on?

But then he felt Freddie’s hitching breath against his temple, and a shudder of distaste at the loving nature of the gesture, its simple and heartfelt intimacy, ran through the older man. Detaching from the two delicious puncture wounds, Martin held Freddie’s gaze instead. For one beat. For two. Then, enjoying the splintered curl of spite in his chest, Martin murmured, “…I want to have you again. If you think you could take it.”

It wouldn’t hurt Martin, of course; at the worst he might feel a wave of ache that came and went. But for Freddie, already fucked out twice, even fairy dust would have a hard time healing up enough to take Martin’s cock comfortably.

That was, if the boy said yes or no.

When Martin stopped drinking, and pulled his head back to look Freddie in the eye again, the boy’s head was swimming from fatigue and the euphoria of blood-loss, his cunt aching where it was still stretched wide around Martin’s cock; and he could only gaze up at his lover with a sleepy sort of adoration, lashes soft and thick against his cheeks with each heavy-lidded blink, his arms still hooked around the vampire’s neck.

And it took a moment before Martin’s request - Martin’s _want_ ; requests weren’t really his style - crystalised, leaving the fairy torn for an answer; worried indecision flashing for a moment in his eyes.

Because he didn’t like to say no to Martin. Saying no had never really been a strong suit of Freddie’s, but saying no to Martin was just- 

Even the idea of it made the teenager’s stomach churn.

Nobody liked to be told no. And Martin _especially_ didn’t like it. Freddie had seen what could happen when someone refused Martin Adjaye - and while he knew that he was different, and that Martin would never turn his anger on him the same way, those moments had made their mark. If he said no, the vampire might find someone _else_ willing to say yes instead. He might take back his love and his time and his attention and give it to someone who would please him better.

So Freddie didn’t want to say no-

….but he knew how badly it would hurt to be taken a third time - and the thought of it made him want to flee the room. 

It would hurt the way it had hurt in that red room in Hamburg. The way that bottle had hurt in Amsterdam.

“I can take it, love,” Freddie said, his voice worn, but sure, “…but it’ll hurt. A lot.” He looked up at Martin with tired hopeful blue eyes. “And you don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

“I really only need a few minutes though, and I could suck you until I’m ready for it?” 

The fairy boy leaned up and kissed Martin’s lips, “You could fuck my mouth… fuck my throat, while my pussy tightens up for you again…”

The vampire drank in every minute flutter of Freddie’s eyelashes, every moue of his distressed mouth, every indication of indecision and reluctance and eroticized agony that passed over the boy’s face in the moments before he answered. That was what he’d been anticipating, was the internal struggle to please at the expense of the young fairy’s flesh.

After all, Martin knew that he could fuck Freddie any time he wanted, anyhow he wanted. Far more satisfying than that was to see how far Freddie would let himself be tortured in order to keep Martin satiated – and retain his role as the favoured kept boy. It was, so far, a role that Freddie had guarded jealously, with no signs of dropping his vigilance. Martin had once brought in a dizzy twink of a nymph as another member of the harem to keep Freddie on his toes, or so he’d intended; the nymph had been driven off in four days flat, weeping as if he’d escaped a dungeon.

Freddie hadn’t had anything good to say about the nymph and he certainly hadn't protested directly to Martin about an interloper's presence - and once the experiment had ended, Martin hadn’t cared to ask either him or the nymph what had happened. But from the cat gorged on canary look that Freddie wore for at least a week afterwards, Martin knew that the fairy boy hadn’t been at all timorous in protecting his status and territory. Had likely been a little horror about it, really.

So now here he was, not saying no, but attempting to negotiate. And Martin looked down into those blue eyes, the lips so swollen they could hardly close, and knew that hurting the whore now would take them around a corner that he didn’t want to approach just yet.

Not and spoil his fun.

“My dear Freddie,” the vampire said instead, letting his cock go soft this time, “you know I don’t want to hurt you. I suppose–” He gave a wry little laugh, laying them both down on the bed again, “–it’s your own fault, if we look at the situation objectively. There’s something about you that makes me want to have you as many times as stamina and strength hold out.”

He kissed Freddie tenderly, making sure the boy tasted his own blood as Martin slicked his tongue deep into Freddie’s slackened, worn-out mouth.

Freddie sagged slightly with relief in Martin’s arms when he felt the vampire’s erection flag inside of him, and he gazed up with eyes full of soft grateful affection at the confirmation that Martin had no desire to hurt him. Of course he didn’t. 

And Freddie _knew_ that. He did. It was just… nice to hear the words, was all. 

To see them in action.

“I do, yeah,” the fairy said as Martin laid them back down again, the older man’s cock finally slipping free of Freddie’s ravaged hole, allowing a little gush of spunk to escape behind it - and Freddie grinned tiredly when the blame for his physical wear and tear was laid squarely on his own shoulders, by virtue of simply being too much for the vampire to resist. “Well, it’s a good thing I bounce back so quickly then, isn’t it?” the teenager teased, reaching out to play with one of Martin’s nipples, blue eyes sparkling in spite of their fatigue. “And that I can’t get enough of that big,” the fairy boy pecked his lover’s lips, “-gorgeous,” one more brush, “-cock.”

Martin kissed him then - the sort of kiss that made Freddie weak in the knees, and made him want to crow with pride all at once; warm and deep and gentle, like no-one else had ever kissed him - and the boy moaned softly, giving himself over to it; the coppery fizz of his own blood on Martin’s tongue no longer off-putting, but only making things better. Demonstrating one more way that Martin wanted him; one more way that Freddie made him happy. 

And when Martin pulled back again to allow him to breathe, Freddie shifted over to settle himself in the vampire’s arms; sprawling possessively across the older man’s broad chest, and his silent absent heartbeat.

“So tell me again where you’re taking me tonight?” the fairy smirked, smug and happy as his arse ached and cum dripped from between his cheeks, fingers creeping over to toy with Martin’s nipple a second time, “And how many presents I’m allowed to have?”

Martin considered Freddie’s greedy little question, amused by its boldness; at seventeen you could already tell why the boy made such a successful whore. He never stopped wanting and was shameless about _asking_ for what he wanted. That was what came from beginning life in the throes of luxury, never mind where Freddie had ultimately ended up. His initial impulses would always gravitate towards the entitled and moneyed.

And it would always leave the young fairy vulnerable to those with the money and power to take control. A combination of poor-little-rich-boy syndrome plus a daddy complex made for a pretty little target indeed.

Already the boy was taking his small liberties, tugging coquettishly at Martin’s nipple, the very picture of the young lover who has his older man smitten. If Freddie knew what Martin was actually thinking about – turning him over on the bed, shoving his face into the pillow and fucking him so mercilessly that it would end with Freddie bleeding down his thighs and hoarse from screaming and sobbing, fucked until he fell unconscious – it would have been quite a different matter.

But then, that was part of the draw, wasn’t it?

“I’m taking you to Király utca, and you’re going to choose two presents. One for each time you made me cum, like a good lad.” One for each time you earned a gift, and you could have had more, Martin didn’t say aloud. But it was rare that he ever made an insinuation that Freddie didn’t pick up on, the boy being sharper in the area of acquisition than he ever would be in emotion. “Deák Ferenc Square has ateliers that I’m a patron of myself, and a friend of mine with an unrivaled collection of blue diamond has just opened a private jewelry boutique.” Martin took Freddie’s hand, examining his fingers. “I know you’ll want at least one present from there, if not both. My little one loves to keep himself adorned for me, doesn’t he?”

Puffed up a bit from the praise, Freddie smiled, bright and sunny, as Martin spoke - though the mention of blue diamonds made his stomach twist a bit. Because Martin couldn’t know that Freddie had been dallying, off and on, during his daylight hours with old Reka Szabó, trying to get his hands on her big fuck-off blue diamond ring - he _couldn’t_. Freddie had been all sorts of cautious and discreet, because he knew that Martin wouldn’t like it, possessive as he was. 

And because it didn’t mean anything. It was just a bit of work - thieving now, instead of whoring - but just a job. A bit of practise, so that Freddie could still feel slightly independent. He’d just kept things quiet because… well… because Martin was Martin, and Freddie didn’t want to disappoint him. Or to make him unhappy. And what the vampire didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him, would it? - because it had absolutely no bearing on anything else.

Martin’s mention of blue diamonds was just a coincidence. It had to be.

So Freddie smiled again as his lover played with his fingers, nodding against Martin’s chest. “I do, yeah,” he murmured, “…and you wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

Martin returned Freddie’s hand to his chest, pressing a kiss to the fairy’s head where it lay pillowed against him - a sort of primer, for the next step in this game. In Martin's ever-glowing image in Freddie's mind, a little more gilding, a little more hero to worship. “Freddie,” Martin said after a moment, “promise that you’ll never love anyone as much as you love me.” He tipped Freddie’s chin up so they could look at each other, share the heartfelt neediness. “I know you _best_ , more even than you know yourself, don’t I. And I know you’re so young, so fickle … you might find somebody else and love him instead. Some man who isn’t as honest with you as I am.” Martin took an unneeded breath. “Promise me, Freddie, that I’ll be the one uppermost in your heart forever. I know it's not fair to ask you that, but I ... need it.”

Freddie sighed happily as the vampire kissed his head, holding him close - but when Martin began to talk about love, wanting Freddie to promise never ever to love anyone else, the fairy was a little bit taken aback, his blue eyes wide as Martin lifted his chin. 

Because Martin didn’t ask for things like that. He never had. For all of his declarations of love, he’d never once asked or expected Freddie to say it in return - he’d treated it simply as a given, an obvious fact. And Freddie… Freddie had never felt the need to say it - because he’d never been certain it was the right word for what he felt for the older man. 

Freddie had never loved anyone but Ollie before (and Bahraman) - and that was different. He and Ollie were connected; they were family. But love… Freddie felt oddly protective of the term.

What he felt for Martin was huge - the vampire was the single most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him, and Freddie was awestruck by him… but was that love? The fairy didn’t know. 

And he didn’t want to promise until he did; though his heart swelled, fit to burst, all the same. 

That Martin loved him this desperately was just…

Freddie could barely even fathom it.

“Martin…” he breathed, “-how could I _ever_ feel about anyone else the way that I do about you?” He leaned up and kissed his lover’s mouth softly, “Look at you. What other man could ever love me the way that you do?”

Freddie looked up into the older man’s eyes. “You’re everything to me,” the teenager promised, completely without guile. “I’m yours. I don’t even want to _think_ about being anything else.”

The fact was that Martin himself was testing the waters. Freddie had proven himself to be a talented hand at thievery and deception, turning a gamble into an art form; but he was most efficient, most objective, when he held no true lasting feeling for the mark. And through all the time that Martin had spent hunting and observing Freddie before plucking the boy right out from the lap of another man, he’d seen that Freddie rarely held anything but the barest regard for the people he targeted.

Fond emotion, the vampire suspected, would muddy the waters plenty.

And it was with a sting of being … impressed? Disappointed? … that Martin noticed Freddie’s faint reaction. The boy was very good for his tender age, but Martin had a vampire’s powers of speed. He could tabulate every microexpression that crossed Freddie’s lovely, concerned face, no matter how the fairy teenager tried to play it cool.

Ah, that was the feeling. It was ... anger.

But at least the boy didn’t suspect. If Martin’s mention of blue diamonds had only stirred up guilt and not suspicion, then it would be easy to handle. And entertaining, as well, as Freddie slid haplessly from his pathetic little secret to his astonishment that anybody like Martin Adjaye, somebody who was really _worth_ something, would want Freddie’s already obvious I-love-you. Perhaps the boy had thought he didn’t know love and therefore couldn’t proclaim it. Martin didn’t care so much about that part as he did the stricken look on Freddie’s face.

The whore had been smitten this entire time. Martin could tell that much, anybody could. But for the older man to actually voice a need for the teenager to return the sentiment verbally, that was not only unexpected, it was unfathomable. And when Freddie gave in to it, barely able to articulate the profundity of his gratitude, Martin knew that he’d won. He could almost feel sorry for Freddie. The fairy boy didn’t even realize the game that was being played, or that he was both the other player _and_ the stakes to be won.

“Listen to me,” Martin said, holding Freddie’s jaw so he couldn’t look away. “I need you to mean that. I want to know that you’re mine, you’ll always _be_ mine, whatever happens. No matter who else enters your life, I’ll forever own a part of your heart. Because I saw something special in you, a light that no other person has been able to see.” His fingers tightened slightly. “Say it. Say it again, once more, little one, sweet little slut. I have to hear you promise yourself to me.”

“I’m yours,” Freddie breathed without any hesitation at all, blinded in the moment by what he thought was Martin’s love for him - the first genuine love of his life; the only experience he’d ever had of being important to anyone, of being necessary, “Always.” 

He’d wanted it so badly, for so long, when he was smaller. For someone to see him, and to want him - to matter. But even though he’d tried to pretend that he didn’t care about any of that anymore as he’d gotten older, and discovered sex, and manipulation, and his talents for both, the longing had never really left him. And when Martin had found him, when he’d made Freddie his mission - and then made him unequivocally his - it had all come rushing back again.

And that hole that the fairy boy had so inexpertly stitched up inside himself had finally begun to feel full.

The tight unyielding grip of Martin’s fingers though, should have been a warning - but Freddie, caught up as he was, felt only the strength of the older man’s conviction, of his love - protection as opposed to menace; and the teenager smiled, blue eyes bright with emotion that he couldn’t define. 

It never so much as occurred to him to be afraid. Not of Martin. Not yet.

And he gazed into his lover’s eyes, at Martin’s handsome face, and leaned trustingly into the vampire’s touch. “And you’re mine too,” he said softly.

“…and you won’t ever want _anyone_ else.”

* * *

The sound of Freddie’s wing splintering under the brutish hands of one of the thugs who’d just raped him was pure symphony, especially paired with the cry the boy gave at being mutilated. Martin Adjaye closed his eyes, letting the anguished music of it sink in, knowing that the Bvlgari Blue implanted into Freddie's belly would be nurtured for as long as it took before Martin needed to retrieve it.

It was true, in the end. He didn’t want anyone else but Freddie.


End file.
